His Little Doe
by Graywolf24
Summary: A series of painful memories had by one, Draco Malfoy. I like to keep my summaries short so I don't give too much away.
1. In the Glade

Its been such a long time since I've written one of these. I'm so sorry for the wait. But here it is, my latest masterpiece...hopefully. I will be done with the entire story today, but if not, by tomorrow. Lots of love!

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You want to capture her light, make it your own, because you've been consumed by a darkness so bleak that you don't recognize yourself.

But the truth is you never did.

One day you'd try to give a shit and others you could give a shit less.

You watch the way she treads softly, dancing about like a fawn, careful not to tread on the delicate underbrush. The way her brown hair falls on her shoulders, framing her angelic face just makes you want to cut across the opening and kiss her until neither of you can feel anymore, until this poisonous obsession of yours' is cured.

You hate her.

You hate what she does to you, but mostly you hate yourself for loving her.

But instead, being the coward that you've convinced yourself that you are, you just watch her, enraptured by her innocent beauty. The Birch you've been propped against for God knows how long has been itching and biting away at your flesh but you refuse to move, afraid that this intoxicating dance might end. Just when you thought you couldn't be drawn in any deeper, she smiles at you. A devilish smile that makes you weak in the knees, and the mind.

"Why do you always stand there looking at me like that?"

You don't reply.

_You cant. _

Instead, you just bore into her eyes with your own. When she lowers her gaze, you want to walk over and force her to look at you.

_At what she's done. _

Instead, you turn on your heel and walk away, your breathing shallow and ragged. You don't notice at first, but your hands have formed tight fists at your sides, veins protruding from your arms. The self control is slipping, you don't know how much more of this you can take.

Suddenly your dress robes feel a bit too tight. _Suffocating._

"Draco wait," she calls after you. You don't stop though. You might end up slamming her up against a tree, greedily collecting her virtue.

"Fuck off Granger."

"What is your problem?"

You can hear the fury dripping from each word. She wants answers that you don't have.

"You're my problem." _It's the truth._

"Then why is it that you follow me out here and spy on me?"

"I was curious as to what a Mudblood does during their free time."

It is a stupid answer and you realize it the moment the words escape your mouth. You mentally slap yourself for sounding like a fool.

"How is it any of your concern? You never fail to remind me of my filthy bloodline, but yet here you are spying on me;" she moves her hands in the air animatedly.

You whirl around, frightening her. Before you can comprehend your actions, you grasp her upper arm tightly, your finger tips digging into her tender flesh. You want to hurt her but at the same time you want to kiss the skin where the bruises will appear.

But instead, you just scowl at her.

"Don't flatter yourself Granger, Malfoys do not spy, they merely observe."

"Let go of me Malfoy, you're hurting me."

She begins to squirm and you can't help but think of the way she would squirm in your bed sheets. The way she would writhe beneath you in sheer ecstasy. In an action alien to even yourself, much too gentle to be your own, you tuck a stray stand of brunette hair behind her ear.

She freezes completely, staring at you bewildered. You can't help but get lost in her brown eyes, reminding you once more of a doe; a chasm of secrets within secrets, all of which you want to know. God you're beautiful you want to say, but instead you push her back into the grass, feeling her eyes bore into the back of your head.

And God it hurts so fucking bad.

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This is going to be a 3, maybe 4 chapter story. I couldn't finish last night but like I said, it'll be done today. Thanks for reading. Any questions? Let me know, I would love to hear from you!


	2. Unspoken

Its when you carry her to the infirmary that you fall for her.

You know this because it's the very same day you lose yourself beyond redemption.

You're her potions partner because Potter is on leave that day. You curse your luck the whole time while you sit at an impractically far distance from her, watching as her hands tremble, adding ingredients to the cauldron. You're making her nervous no doubt, you can tell by the way the sweat is collecting on her brow. You refuse to utter encouraging words, or ease her discomfort.

Instead you savor in her distress.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" she finally asks, her eyes never leaving the task at hand.

"To make sure you don't fail us." Your voice is devoid from any emotion.

She sneers at your remark; "if anything Malfoy, that would be you. I couldn't fail us even if I tried."

At that moment a fire ignites within you, her cockiness the ever present fuel. You want to wring her neck and bite the flesh all at the same time. You move your wooden stool closer, _dangerously close._ You can smell the lavender of her perfume and the sweetness of her breath, and for a moment you want to capture her mouth with your own.

To see if your theory is correct of course.

The thought of touching her impure skin both excites and disgusts you. And you are walking a thin line between the two when you pluck the vial of God knows what from her dainty hand, making it a point to brush your fingertips against the back of her hand. You don't know what kind of game you are playing, but you know it won't end well. She recoils immediately as if her hand were exposed to a flame.

You chuckle inwardly at the thought.

"What, the brave little lioness doesn't like playing with fire?" You speak your thoughts aloud and bite down on your tongue immediately, but its too late. She shoots you a bewildered glare but before she can speak, her face contorts into one of pure agony. The clink of the dagger falling to the wood floor is accompanied with the fall of crimson droplets.

A large gash extending from the palm of her hand to the wrist being the reason.

She stands up abruptly, one hand pressing against the other. Her stool falls back unceremoniously and you hate her more than you have ever hated her in that moment. You hate her for putting you in the position to save her. But mostly, you hate yourself for knowing that you would have done so regardless. Her face has begun to lose color, and just as she begins to sway dangerously, you catch her; an annoyed "fuck" muttered under your breath.

You hold her close as she borders unconsciousness, and even now she won't give up her tough lioness act.

"I'm fine," she mutters.

But you know she's not.

"Shut the fuck up Granger." You spit the words like venom. A bit too venomous, even for you.

"It's just a little cut."

"For God's sake Granger, it takes a special sort of talent to slice open your hand with a dagger that small. And while cutting cloves of garlic nonetheless! I'm not too surprised though it must be a Mudblood talent, you are a clumsy lot after all."

Mudblood.

You've said the word so many times before but somehow this time its painful. Mostly because you've seen her blood and it looks just like your own. Nothing like you'd imagined.

"Put me down," she hisses. And you comply, curious as to see what she will do. But you're never further than a few feet from her. You watch as she guides her way down the hall, her hands gliding against the stone walls. A trail of blood in her wake, a reminder of the event, perhaps a permanent one.

The walls are never scrubbed.

They are ignored. Downtrodden.

Left to their own fate.

Somehow these walls remind you of yourself.

When she collapses, you're there to catch her. Its in that moment you notice the way her lips part with every breath, their soft pink hue almost irresistible. Its in that moment that you see how the dull moonlight highlights her features, and realize how beautiful she really is.

_Have you learned your lesson you foolish, prideful girl?_, you want to say, but instead you hold her close. Because she can't push you away.

Neither can you.

_Instead._

Its an action that becomes part of who you are. Its always instead for you, because the former option is never really an option.

_Not for you._

You run. Run harder than you ever have. Your legs had threatened to give way so long ago, but you trudge on until you reach the double doors leading to her salvation.

You run your hands through your hair as Madame Pompfrey dresses her wounds, assuring you that she's gonna be fine. You sneer at her, pretending that you don't give a fuck, because besides 'instead,' pretending is something you do best. You know the wound is nothing serious, but the thought of her in the infirmary scares you. You tell yourself its because you'd be the one to blame, but deep down you know its because something has shifted inside this deep abyss of your being.

Only a handful of words were exchanged but here you are, falling for a girl you've hated for so long.

But you know that you've always felt this way.

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Are you loving the story so far? Let me know what you think !


	3. Of Wrinkled Bedsheets and Sweet Nothings

This chapter contains sexual content, so if you feel offended by that kind of stuff, you probably shouldn't read this. Reviews are very much appreciated. They are extremely encouraging and it feels good to be acknowledged for your work. ENJOY!

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It's the day you first make love to her that you know that you can't live without her.

"I know I'm irresistible Granger, but its not polite to stare."

"Why'd you do it?"

"Call me daft, but I don't seem to know what you're talking about."

Madame Pompfrey told me you stayed with me all night."

Suddenly your mouth feels dry, and your knees weak. You don't know what to say, so you don't say anything. You notice that her hair has taken the shape of corkscrew curls, no longer the unidentifiable bush it had once been. A stray strand falls apart from the rest and almost as if it were a subconscious reflex, you tuck it back behind her ear.

"Malfoy what is wrong with you?" You snap out of your silent reverie a bit dazed.

"You."

It's a quiet whisper.

One that you don't think she hears, but she does. Its her, its always been her. She is your weakness.

Your downfall.

Its only obvious that she is your problem.

"If you hate me so much why do you do…this." She motions towards you.

You sigh, simply turning your back on her and walking away.

"Don't walk away from me damnit. Don't you dare."

You feel so weak. So pathetic. You don't spit fire at her, and instead of you, its her that's asking the tough questions.

Your heart skips a beat when she grabs your arm, turning you around. And you tell yourself that its her fault when you kiss her. You cup her face in your hands, your fingers digging into her skin. Its painful and not for the obvious reasons. Painful because a hurricane of emotions is coursing through your soul.

You feel like a dementor, taking hers' as well.

Its painful because you knew that this would happen. But its most agonizing because she's not yours'.

And she never will be.

When it is absolutely necessary for you to breath, you break the kiss and rest your forehead against hers, your breathing shallow, her chest heaving. The taste of her mouth lingering on your own: strawberries pastries.

You're surprised that she hasn't hexed you into oblivion. Instead she simply pushes you away.

"Why do you keep doing this?"

She's leaning against one wall and you stare at her from the opposite.

"Why do you pretend that you hate me one day, then kiss me like you give a fuck the next? Do you give a fuck, or am I assuming too much?"

"I don't know."

"How do you not know? You don't know why you kissed me. Do you also not know why you called me Mudblood all these years?"

You close your eyes tightly, somehow hoping that she'll disappear when you open them again.

The heated passion in her voice reverberates throughout the empty corridors.

"No, I don't know why." You match her passion with your own.

"Bullshit," she spits.

You blame her for the second kiss as well.

You're standing before her in two quick strides; one hand at the back of her neck and the other at her thigh, making its way up her skirt. She moans in pain as the protruding stone digs into her back.

You silence it with your mouth.

When your heated kisses lead you back to your room, you waste no time in shedding your clothing. And she wastes no time in shedding her own. You admire her beauty, the way the moonlight from the over sized window hits her chest. The way her breasts look at that moment. The way the space between her thighs glistens like the morning dew. The way her hair is crazy, and for once its in a good way. But what really drives you mad is the way her eyes are filled with lust.

Lust for you.

You approach her slowly, almost as if she will run away if you startle her. Snaking your arm around her back, you pull her in closer, her eyes never leaving your own. You wonder what she can see in your eyes.

Can see your demons caged deep down in the darkest recesses of your soul?

You take in the familiar scent of lavender, and allow your senses to be lost in it. You place a kiss on the space beneath her ear, and she breathes raggedly. Her hands get lost in your platinum hair somewhere along the way, and your own explore her body. Her skin as soft and supple as satin. She's growing impatient, you can feel it.

You can smell it.

The salty taste of her skin becomes one that you won't be able to live without, should you ever be denied it. But you know she'll come to her senses and you'll be strangers once more. The thought angers you, you want her all to yourself, because not only are you a coward, you are a greedy coward. You dig your fingertips into the hollow space behind her knees and carry her to your bed where you allow her fall back into the dark green sheets.

You can't help but think she belongs there.

The contrast of her ivory skin against the silk of the fabric makes your breath catch in your throat. She looks up at you, the sheets intertwined with her body, beckoning to you like a siren. And you will gladly crash into a thousand boulders for her. You don't know when your love for her turns into an obsession. Perhaps its the moment you take one of her nipples in your mouth and she moans beneath you, her bare legs rubbing up and down your own. Perhaps its when you thrust into her and she cries out you name.

_Draco._

You love the way her hair is matted on her forehead from sweat.

You worship her body with your own, slamming into her over and over as she makes noises that you will not soon forget. As she reaches her climax you kiss her on the forehead, lingering as you reach your own.

_I love you_, you want to say, but instead you roll onto your back, loathing everything you are once more.

She leaves, and you don't stop her. Mainly because she's not yours' to stop. You're left with nothing but your fire whiskey and an unpredictable, unstable heart.

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Thanks for reading. I don't even know if this story is worth continuing. Is it good, is it bad? I just don't know. I reread all my stories dozens of times, and I can usually tell if they are a work of art, or a complete flop. I just can't tell with this one. Sighs* oh well.


	4. Broken Hearts and Wedding Bells

The day of her wedding you realize that you aren't a completely selfish man.

"You look beautiful."

You're staring at her from the doorway, the same way you used to all those years ago, and she smiles that same devilish smile.

"Can you help me with this dress?"

It's something you've heard before, but the circumstances had been so different. You quietly make your way across the room, taking in her scent, your eyes travelling down her bare back. You know every inch of it. The heart shaped scar. The beauty mark so small that only you know it exists.

You can feel her shiver as you breath on her neck. You pray she doesn't see the look on your face, but you know she does. You know it the moment your eyes make contact in the mirror. You know it the moment she stiffens.

You lightly brush your fingers up her spine as you zip up her dress.

"Draco," she whispers, almost as if she's breathing your name. You want to rip off her dress and fuck her until she comes to her senses, until she calls off this wedding. But instead, you step back with a weak "all done."

"You look beautiful." You know you've already said it, but you need her to hear it. When she turns around, you can't breath. It's just like the moment you first saw her.

"I'm really happy you're here."

But you know it's a lie. You can see it in her eyes. You tell yourself it's because she might run off with you, but you know it's because she's trying to move on and you're just an obstacle.

You want to leave. You want to turn your back on her, but instead, you kiss her.

You kiss a bride on her wedding day.

You half expect the ceiling to split open and the wrath of whatever God she believes in to unleash itself upon you. You hate yourself in that moment, more than you ever have.

"Is this what you came here for?", she demands, slapping you across the face. You clench your jaw tightly in response.

"I love you."

It's the first time you've said the words, yet they feel so natural, as if you've said them a thousand times.

She looks at you with her eyebrows knitted together and you immediately regret saying it. You don't regret feeling it though.

Her slender fingers cover her mouth in a futile attempt to maintain her composure, but to no avail. Tears begin rolling down her cheeks.

Now you've made a bride cry on her wedding day.

You've never seen her cry before, and you hate being the reason.

"I'm sorry," you whisper. Your voice shaky from the emotion. "I'm so fucking sorry."

"You should be!," she yells. "You should be. I waited so many years to hear you say those words, and you wait until today? I hate you!"

Her voice reverberates off the blue walls, echoing in your mind as well. Your hands clench into fists at your side, and you feel so many sentiments at that moment.

Hate, passion, love, confusion, but mostly pain.

It's your fault that she's here, standing before you in her white dress; marrying another man. Maybe if you'd said the words sooner, you'd be the one standing beside her at the alter. You were a coward though, you still are one.

A prideful, greedy coward.

And it's because of this realization that you'll never forgive yourself. You promise yourself that the moment you get home, you'll destroy your liver as punishment.

"Run away with me."

She laughs bitterly. Hatefully. You try to buy her with your wealth as a last resort. Your obsolete wealth.

"I'd never let your feet touch the ground. I'd cover every inch of the manor with rose petals. I'd...I'd buy you more diamonds than you'd be able to wear." You sound crazed, and impracticable, and desperate all at once, but you don't care.

"Draco please."

The tears flow freely now, and she makes no attempt to stop them. Suddenly in a surge of fury, she bangs her fists against your chest.

"I hate you so much. So fucking much."

You notice how she's picked up the nasty habit of swearing; from you no doubt. Just another reason for you to hate yourself.

You smile at her, and it's a broken smile.

"Marry me instead."

The pain in your voice is evident and you don't make an attempt to hide it. You don't make an attempt to pretend this time.

She continues assaulting your chest with her tiny fists, and you continue to stare at her with your sad, gray eyes.

Finally, she tires down and rests her head on your chest. You silently hold her close, letting her tears spill on your shirt.

"Leave with me."

"Just go Draco."

You understand.

You don't want to, but you do. You kiss her on the forehead one last time before turning on your heel and walking out of her life.

You hear a faint 'I love you too' on the way out, but maybe it's just because you want to.

That day you drink yourself into unconsciousness.

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Hey everyone! I hope you enjoyed. A few things: 1. I'll have the last chapter up by tomorrow. Fingers crossed* (sometimes things just do go as planned unfortunately.) 2. I really appreciate the feedback from the reviews. The tips are always taken into consideration. Thank you again. :)


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